What is the end goal of incarceration? what does the public expect the inmates to be once they come back into society? The real answer, not the clean cut formal department of justice answer, because that’s just pie in the sky salesman speak. I mean what do expect a child to do if you send them into timeout for being bad, but offer no instruction nor attempt to figure out what it is within them that causes them to do those things. Do you expect change, without correcting the problem? Adults don’t need to be told the why’s but their why’s need to be understood in order to have any hopes of an improved mindframe. You don’t send a child to timeout and surround them with temptation and the things that will only serve to make them worse, you structure their punishments in order to condition a better response and behavioral change. So how do you expect an adult to change when they may come from dysfunction, and you enhance those dysfunctions by throwing them into the center of even more dysfunctional people with no real requisite or structure of betterment. How can you speak to a person that only understands and knows struggle and pain and the worst sides of life, like betrayals of love, abandonment of family, alienation of friends, no problem solving, venting with dependencies, drugs, murder, abuse of all sorts and with no real identity and a constantly changing environment that surrounds them and clouds them with neglect and a society that offers them no respect, honor or family that gangs offer yet casting them out showing only fear, denigration and disrespect with every effort to say they are lesser while providing unrealistic expectations of achievement as if it is mutually inclusive and possible regardless the conditions they developed within. How can you say you understand if you offer opinion first before an ear, if you compare your experience to mine as if you overcame despite it all. How can a person know how to forgive when all they know is blame and revenge, when society hides their truth and hands down their responsibility on everything and everyone else but themselves yet you say I should come out better and fully functioning, knowing better and cherishing what I had yet prison shows the bare naked truth of society. Separation, segregation, prejudice, racism, lies, denial, depravity, alienation, classism, judgement, unforgiving, violent, anger, fear, escapism, loneliness, abandonment, addiction need I go on, because my closet is doorless and yours is vaulted now all of a sudden since I’m in this obvious prison and you hide within your prison you act as if you can speak down to me, as if I owe you something, as if I’m so unrepairable and my sin is so much grander than yours while your precious freedom makes money off my misery, offering me false hope. The best kept secret is that I am constitutionally a legal slave and you expect me to come out without trauma and be grateful? I was raised s a state ward, with an imprisoned mother battling depression alienation addiction and a father killed by her hand while pregnant with me because of his drunken abusive episode which I never found out til damn near 18. How do you speak to that person, how do you get through to them when all you see them as and throw them in is shit? I speak to that type everyday, because I am in that shit with them, these same people that could’ve killed me not because they hate me but because hate is all they know and society tells them its their fault, so fuck it right?! When they call out and hear of a close death, a cheating girlfriend, maybe she left, or likes her power in the phone, family distant and friends are a matter of convenience but yet society says don’t come back broken because you know better, we gave you a chance to heal and find yourself even though everyone outside lives as strangers trapped within their own prisons. I’ve offered my voice to friends with heartbreaks, addiction issues, suicidal thoughts, loneliness, health struggles, relationship problems, in need of life advice and an ear because I m going through it too, so I know it, I identify, I feel them and I I’m that ear daily for the worst people society casted out, real killers and molesters. I have answers for everyone but myself and two sons that barely know my voice, their mothers holding onto past pains, my siblings growing through life on their own, and a mom transitioning from prison, but who talks to me, what do u tell me that I haven’t told the mirror already, I get more judgment than help, we all do..I heard it all so just in case you didn’t know what its like, this is a fraction of what I embrace willingly daily
Inside
A Circle Has No End or Beginning
A circle has no end or beginning, but it is ever revolving, and the more you travel, the more you will see what you first were blind too. So, at times I speak in circles, that way you will be able to revisit things you already were aware of, just maybe not conscious of, and you get a chance to see without blockers, so talking in circles isn’t as bad you they say
Parsing paradigms and piercing paradoxes are in someway my thought and writing style, I write perspective narratives and perspective verse poetry based from my wayward observations and experiences of Life and Imprisonment. I’ve come to see that those two experiences, while one is in freedom, and the other isn’t, both have more mirroring parallels and possibly aren’t so contrasting as they may seem. Just one population is more concentrated, and so the interactions of that population are more inflamed for lack of space and options-two things a civil society offers, but we adjust. Prison-the land of the Civilized Savages. It’s easier to question things when you add distance from the thing in question. Distance creates objectivity and room for thought.. so I think about “what if’s” a lot and the mortality of them, they speak to either a distant future or distant past, and mostly an impossibility
I believe one of the biggest “what if’s” are, what if you knew everyone’s truth, and they too, were privy of the real you? What if, everything you believed was exactly the contrar? Could you be brave enough to accept those new revelations, or would stubborness, fear, and the lack of idealism plague your growth? It takes questioning to learn more, but as we mature from our adolescent selves, ironically we question less, preffering comfort to re-construction. Somehow, the mere act of questioning is both brave and audacious, because of the way in which we cling to conventional norms and wisdoms. Conforming is the new tolerance, and individuality is the new prison, Welcome!
So here’s a question, can there be chaos without control, or control without chaos? Or simply, do they both feed off each other? We see life as if everything has an opposing force, instead of a complimentary one. Obviously, perception is reality. Along with the connotations attached to our complicated dubious and ambiguous langauge. Maybe control is chaotic, and chaos however, is a means of control. Maybe because the act of supplementing a control for chaos, creates conditioning. Yet, no control is constant, besides in the fact that it is just like life, therefore, constantly changing. We have frames, doctrines, laws, and paradigms that we use to identify and medicate the themes we come across in life, but those structures and foundations are constantly in a state of agitation, or change, as life evolves and we adapt. Therefore, control I believe, is chaotic, because we have to compliment chaos with order, it’s opposite, but does that mean that chaos is control, or does chaos merely beckon control? The latter would be obvious. Control is ever evolving and adapting, like lifes organisms and societies. In order to survive, control creates a norm, or certain conditions, so then life in itself is “Chaotic Control”-birthing a ceaseless cycle of conditioning
–
I tell her to stay
she try to go-
she try to stay
I try to leave-
like she is my tree
like she is my sleeve-
she try-on my heart
it is her size-
im wearing on her
and she wears me out-
the girls like a man
that show how he feel-
she see the girls
and see my appeal-
I try to split
banana won’t peel-
but she need a pill
because she feelin ill-
she keeping secrets
her secrets revealed-
when she get a drink
in to her gills-
there’s plenty of fish
but that ain’t the deal-
this is a pickle
but she can not dill-
what is the deal
she want me to kneel-
she try to feel
but she can not feel
so she play the field
now I’m in my feels
now I have a shield
still wondering if she’ll..
but she never will
–
do u love me, or u love me not?!
no really do u?
cuz my stomach in knots!
its just u promise a lot
then contradict with a thought
now my confidence at a loss
and u comprehend it as fault
u say its mine when we talk
like this shit all in my head?!
but all THAt I see is fog
I hear ur echoing heels
as they SLAP the side walk
I look up and ur lost
speaking my truth at a cost
what’s the point of a heart
if it only beats when its tossed
I wear it on my sleeves, maybe these sleeves should come off!
u say u love me don’t lie!
(gulp)Im drinking my pride
because I’m tryna hide
that I’m dying inside
fuck!
why should I cry?!
you just hate being alone!
u don’t know bout real love (hiccup)
ahhhh should give up
why do I even get up
stuck in my feels and all I feel is bitter
tasting the remnants of your lipstick glitter
the sweetest venom..
I secretly kiss your picture
and then I rip it
placing it in an envelope, reluctantly I send it
after I write a sentence
“only for your eyes…but I hope you dont get it”
–
she told me she love me
why won’t she cry for me
she told me she’ll never leave
why won’t she cry for me
she said she’d rather be nowhere but right here
why won’t she cry for me
she said there’s no one else like me
why won’t she cry for me
she said she has never felt like this before
why won’t she cry for me
she said she goes into a love portal when our lips collide
why won’t she cry for me
she said she feels so cold after we break away from our embrace
why won’t she cry for me
she said I’m not her first, but I am her first
why won’t she cry for me
she looks at me deep, with this question in her eyes
longing for some kind of answer
she always asks me how I feel
she wants to hear me say it
I say the exact same things she said
her look became distant
she found her answer
I didn’t notice
until she said goodbye
I reached for her, but it was too late, she slipped away
wanting things I could never give
looking for something I clearly couldn’t see
why can’t I cry for her…
I wish I could cry for her
Her Eyes
She told me everything with her eyes, usually I never listen, always taken up with everything else in my day and the days to come except the moment at hand! But this time I refused to allow my mind to drift, usually preoccupied with things that could take care of themselves, if not wait for when I had time to address them. I saw that void behind her focus, saying so much yet assuming I’d miss her signs once again, but still there was a piercing hope that held no facade of need behind her electric gaze. Why had I kept her waiting for so long? It was my lack of confidence in self, believing her too good to feel something for average ol’ me. What could I offer, that a whole world of what I may consider more than qualified men, could offer? I don’t think now was a time to ponder that, besides she always spoke directly about the things she loved about me, but bashfully I let them roll off her tongue as candor and casual niceties that are no more fitted than for, anything but playful gab. Trying to guess a woman’s intent, in any capacity is enough to send you to a nuthouse. What was it again? Oh yea, she loved my words, believing beneath them all, held a layer much deeper than what she has ever experienced in another man, she “vibed off my spirit” she’d always say. Yea, the feeling was mutual, but it always ended with me drifting into fantasies of more carnal desires and the friction we could share that would rival the lightening bolts of Zeus himself. Though time again, I’d quiet those thoughts, knowing I do have that layer of depth, priding myself of being capable of maintaining cordial bonds with women that didn’t have to involve sex, after all my best friend is a woman, so I’d try hard to quell those fires. Believing I could be more than the typical man, that’s assumed to not be able to think beyond sex and never knowing any good reason for waiting, as if wanting it all right away was always a matter of life or death. But this time, to my own peril, I finally realized I had thought too much into it and waited too long. I break our silence suddenly saying, “I get it now”. By her look, I could tell she was puzzled, caught off guard, by my words. I finished by saying, “I hear you, finally, way later than I should’ve, in saying nothing, your eyes said it all, I should’ve known, claiming to know you so well, and I’m right there with you, I always have been…I was just scared I admit, over thinking like usual, but trust me, the way I feel about you keeps the fire squad on call!” She blushed so hard at that moment, only heightening her radiant glow, resembling the sun’s rays peeking over the horizon. We both needed each other, why lose another second. I wont explain what happened next, because no words can even describe the plain we took off to from there, some experiences just cant be explained with words.
So I know you’re probably wondering why did I take you on this intimate ride with no details of explosive passion to follow, well because I’m in prison right now. So obviously that couldn’t happen! See, most of us will go through these situations when we get out, with no real understanding of how to navigate through them. Because of the interactions we didn’t have, cut off from naturally socializing, we might almost be like teenagers in the way we struggle with self confidence, reading signs, and unable to properly communicate our emotions, let alone allow ourselves to be vulnerable. Our brains were usually on fight or flight autopilot, we had no time to let our guards down, and every reaction we had, was to read if someone was being genuine, or if someone was trying to handle or hurt us. Everyone else that we knew outside came and went, so questioning intent and preparing for departure kept us unable to just be in the moment and focus, always believing that those around would fade away, I mean why stay and wait for a person stuck in the same spot. A reflection of how we valued ourselves based on the temporariness of others, let alone never feeling heard or understood, yet becoming the greatest listeners which only gave us more situational companions because frankly, no one listens intently these days, so no one listened to them out there, like a person in prison would. Imagine having answers for everyone but yourself yet still, no one having answers for you, where do you turn? So going back into this fast paced world, being able to focus and feel, will be a struggle. See re-offending may depend on our relationships, if we are maintaining good relationships and are successful in reading those intimate and social tell-tell signs, than life will be much easier and we will feel less alien. But if we aren’t successful, then going into our head will just be another prison we enter that may lead us back to this prison. Having to read signs is an unneeded added stress, and unnecessary stress always adds unintended consequences. I am even trapped in my head a lot right now, not being able at times to see myself as more than an inmate. But the difference is that I realize it, so maybe I can combat it, but most of us can’t, being only used to structural and functional relationships. Most of us will get out one day, so where will we find respite, escape, and emotional outlet if not in our relationships? All that to say this, since 50% of Americans know someone in prison, help them with relationship and interactions, venture away from your comfort and stop with the signs assuming that they know because the signs we are used to reading serve to keep us safe, I used to use them for that and to cope and understand the people around me. Yes, I’m asking you to spell it out until we get familiar with the world again, because not being able to adjust and feel apart of something and someone will only accelerate the feeling of alienation and possibly start us back on a downward spiral. We know what and who we were for years in here, don’t forget to help us remember who we were and could be once free again.
In the Eyes of the Beholder: Mea Culpa
I think what’s lost on people is that ‘guilty’ isn’t the only life changing judgement given to an incarcerated person. It’s not only the added judgement of those whom you don’t know that also is so difficult to tread through, but it is the judgement of those closest to you that really changes your life. Either for the better or for the worse, and often the worse sadly, because those are the opinions and affirmations we look to the most. And so, with that added space of unfamiliarity and judgement, incarceration becomes an added community and family of like struggle, adversity and pain. Because this side of the fence understands the hardships, the hidden scars, the denied emotions and the blocked traumas..simply because it’s all about survival. So we celebrate birthdays, holidays, familial reunions, new found or continued love and outdates! It’s tough to see those you form such a bond with leave, it’s weird to say as a man that you care about other men and have built deep storied intimate bonds, confiding in them your worst, while having those confidences relayed in this concrete jungle of testosterone and longing. I’m happy when I see those I grew to have a love and respect for leave, but it takes something out of you every time that you don’t know how to explain let alone refill. You don’t know how to talk about it, so we just go on, feeling that pang of loss and comfort leaving us once again. Just recently, a person left that has made such an intangible impact on my life in a short span of time and it’s hurt in a way I can’t describe. I have known of this person most of my bid but because of who they were, I never interacted with them until lately, which seemed almost a fateful encounter. I know it feels like I lost out on so much, and I only wonder how much more could I have gained from them had I not kept distance from them because of those prejudices, stereotypes and judgements that rule this side of the fence also. Effect, impact..are intangibles, they can’t be measured and come around boundlessly. Titles and identifications that create divides like gay, trans, different gangs, different colors, convicts etc shouldn’t be the decider of the core of a person and the possible influence they can have on you for the better. Let me speak in plain terms..I have lesbian aunts and cousins, a transgender brother and yet I question my manhood when it comes to speaking to those I’d title as such that aren’t family. I’ve always said titles don’t matter, it’s what’s beneath that shows the person, well someone of that ilk also challenged my hypocrisy and put my words to the test. Where am I going with this? I made a gay friend, no, I made a guy friend that even now I feel self conscious about but I hope to be his friend for years to come, because he not only taught me so much, but beneath it all he may be one of the greatest spirits I’ve ever met..save of course my best friend Katie! Nobody beating that, let’s get real folks! She brought the world YoungR.U.S.S. WayOfLife and Proseofacon! Hopefully I can continue earning his friendship ridding myself of my personal phobias, because he even kept his word once he got free, checked out my page and showed his support and he could be just focusing on freedom that he just acquired 72hrs prior. Me, being who I used to be holding one on one dialogues with him feeling like I had the eyes of the whole prison on me within the unit was maybe more mentally a struggle than any fight, war, riot, or hole stint i’ve experienced..that says a lot about shallow perceptions and how they rule us. I felt like I needed to come up with a reason if anyone ever asked, and he got it and respected it without taking offense, but in those moments I felt bad and I envied him, because I thought I had finally gained my freedom of self without care of opinion but I really hadn’t, but he does and THAT in itself was a lesson and so motivating empowering and revealing. A friend revered, hugged him one day and I was like I wish I could do that. I give it to some others comfortably, that same friend shared sentiments with me after his departure, I never knew they were also that platonically close, I was blind. I eventually shared a hug. Not all lessons come in words, most come in acts, and he embodied compassion, faith, understanding, respect and freedom of identity. I guess I still have awhile to go to find myself or to be comfortable with how I feel. The eyes of the world may see and judge me while in here and once out, because even some closest to me only see what they are lazy enough to see. In some eyes we will also be everything but who we are, but in our own eyes, we need to be confident in who we know that we have become and striving to be, no matter what people say or think, and the rest will take care of itself. I’m still bettering myself everyday, join me, I like to act as if I am ready to be free and have it all figured out but I keep finding things to work on, I’m just like you, an unfinished masterpiece. I can be a better father, friend, son, brother, and person, but im trending All The Way Up #facts Thank you Nikko!
Visit Day!
I was somebody capable of being loved before I became inmate, walk down this love lane-guage with me , as I speak to you about falling…or re-falling in love as an inmate. Its not the same as prison love, I’ll explain that concept another day, but right now let me tell you about a date I have. Yes, we can have dates in prison, we aren’t primitive! So this person is great. They are young imaginative passionate talented energetic vibrant athletic smart innocent kind of rough around the edges and high maintenance but that strong will and mind only breeds their pure love. They kinda remind me of myself, I guess its why I love them so much. Yes I said love, again I’m in prison, I’m not primitive! Sheesh! But its real love, biological in depth so to speak, cosmic and purposeful. Nothing in the world could have stopped this love from blossoming and us two finally meeting, let alone inhabiting this planet at the same time, it was meant to be I guess is what I’m getting at. I’m nervous, because they only know me over phone calls, letters, and videos…what if in person I’m not liked as much? Things can always be awkward and either be for the better or worse when you finally meet. Today will be the decider of that fate I guess. When I first heard them get all bashful and happy but also nervous when speaking of finally coming to see me, it warmed my heart and calmed my nerves a bit. I haven’t dealt with much outside of this prison life when it comes to meeting people on the outside, I’ve been locked up the whole time we’ve known of each other. Ah! And what about the first hug and kiss?! I’ve ironed my clothes, but I sprained my ankle playing football yesterday so I’ve been healing it because first impressions are lasting and I don’t want them to see me in a weakened state, so I’ve iced my ankle and kept it elevated and rotating it all night! Forcing myself to walk straight and strong through this pain all morning. I stayed away from working out and people so I couldn’t get any surprise sicknesses or injuries and that is exactly what happened when I played our game, oh well, nothing planned stays perfect. But the day is finally here, you all don’t know what I’ve been through to get to this day. The sacrifices I’ve made, the trauma I’ve fought, the ways I had to adapt and evolve in order to survive this land of violence and misery. I used to wonder if this day would ever happen, let alone if I’d get out in tact to be with them. I’ve protected my life an few times with them on my mind, willing myself to not be beaten, and on the other end willing myself to not give in to venting my frustration violently and staying positive, so I couldn’t ruin this fateful reunion. I’ve been scared through it all I admit, but not a coward, I embrace my own actions and reactions. Now I write to an audience and can share this great moment with you, I’m not polyamorous or unfaithful, but there’s two loves I want to meet, these loves you embrace and don’t appraise one over the other, but I can only have one for now and this isn’t settling so I’m just as enthused, because everything comes within time. I’ve seated on both of them with this time away but I’m paying that forward, my mission is my penance so to speak. So here we go, two hours away,..I will fill yaw in on how it went, maybe I’ll tell you who it is also..
ahh! and here we are, I hate cliff hangers…on the edge of my bed during lockdown for count and it is approx 53 minutes til visits start. A million things flying through my head, but mostly hoping for no difficulties with the staff that may ruin the visit…anything but that!
Well of course there were problems but I won’t dampen the mood speaking of those details, I also won’t kiss and tell, maybe details for another day, but all I can say is that long lost and long distance love is all its cracked up to be! We were just perfectly meshed…I guess I’ll let you in on their name…Treyvan, it was my youngest son! The best day I had in over half a decade!
The way we talked laughed cuddled fought joked and danced, oh I swear he can really dance! The saddest part was seeing his heavy head clutching onto the pics we took together as it was time to go, it went from not thinking I’d see him, to not believing he’d stay the whole time, to him not wanting to leave me. Every good love story has tears at the ending, I shed one I admit, but to see the crowd of people waiting to see the pics and hear about my time with him was a beautiful show of community love here in prison! And to my bro Nate, thanks for taking the time and sharing that moment with me.
Nothing else mattered every second I held him, those moments I wasn’t a felon or a inmate anymore, I was a father with a son that met him for the firs time and loved him without conditions. I guess that’s the picture often forgotten when all you know and see in someone is the display of them in their worst moment latched with a title and cause, while presented with a number and a facial photo crop. Today, I was a person again, and a child will never let you forget what real love feels like before we get older and jaded by opinions prejudices statistics stereotypes having to qualify love instead of quantifying it. Everything I’ve been through to get to this day, has paid off and was worth it. Today, his mother showed me the depth of forgiveness and parenting for the good of a child not self, the way she went out of her way is more than I can ask, everything takes time, she’s not late, she did it exactly when it needed to be done and that’s when she felt ready and comfortable, so thank you Liss. This isn’t to shame any of you out there that may hesitate bringing your child into a prison, comfortability isn’t manifested overnight, but just know that the effort, whatever that effort is, is what really counts. So, uh, it may take time but I’m willing to make this work, so whenever he’s ready, I’m up for a second date, love at first sight just isn’t so cliché as I thought!
Ignorance, not Bliss
A c.o. asked if I were racist
surprised by the question’s basis
because it was the title of a book she read without flipping thru the pages
isn’t that a cliché…
but this is the same narrow minded perceptions our society has created
what?…
would she prefer my seeking of knowledge be nameless or faceless
or was it because the end result of what I seek started and ended with black faces
what is depth, when the inside is hidden to the uncaring consumer absorbing a calzone
so which part of the title was the threat? The conditions that face black people in America, or the valley of dry bones?
we all know that answer…
How could I speak on a subject in which in her 50 plus years it hasn’t even been relevant?
How can I speak of color, skin, the science of melanin, only as difference not as supremacy, if her history, cascades its skeletons?
She only seemed to understand the fact of me having close white friends, well I guess it really was a surprise
How can I give in and make allowances for the cliché, ‘ignorance is bliss’ while willful ignorance is just as incendiary to our society’s demise?
How can she believe that everyone experiences life the same, how can she be that blind?
Then I realized…
She only knows what’s been shown, whether conscious or unconsciously learning to deny and downplay
Maybe she doesn’t know that black is more than a color
Though color is not identity
Black is enshrined deeply with culture
Though most, of it has turned ghost, from being poached, since arriving on the Virginia coast, by boat, and the ensuing reconditioning played culprit
Maybe I should’ve told her
How black has become a stereotypical synonym posted
as loud and boastful
Materialistic, objectifying, absent fathers, promiscuous big booty crazy women, ignorant sagging slang talkin rappers, criminals, drug dealing abusive illiterate fast running, high jumping, angry gang banging wild yet lazy monkeys, the engineers of an inciting riotous hip hop cult, not culture!
but if that’s true, then despite the lack of reparations, and every movement and economic progression stunted, by governmental forceful tactics and Willie lynch syndrome inhabited, what you deem problematic, I call it coping
and religiously hoping
though this cult like culture, has been stolen and resold for exposure
I could’ve explained in depth our resilience, strength and accomplishments, but in all honesty her response may provoke me
to a black child, which the world doesn’t know, seeming to have given him a cold shoulder
his dreams look no further than a poster and apolster
disbelieving of making it to be an adult, let alone not understanding the point in cementing his vote/and inhabiting the mind of becoming a broker
he may chase solicited fame, designed to saturate his brain, which in the end will make him broker
this isn’t a word, but he wouldn’t know it
a rapper is just a misunderstood urban poet
that dreams to swallow pride enshrined in Moet
to numb the pain of facing a society that doesn’t understand him and a legal system he shadow boxes with as if an opponent
which preys on his lack of understanding and color, poaching-waiting to pounce on his worst moment
the problem is, I could’ve explained it all, and just as I tried
I realized I was talking to a door by the look in her eyes
It’s sad the unknowing narratives that rule our lives
clichés are shrugged off as a collective of agreeable and undebated truths, but the real truth is that saying, “ignorance is bliss” is just another ignored lie